Search:almost falling roots

(*Previously unreleased)

Telling a tale of house music’s early days or roots without mentioning Tony Humphries as a club DJ, remixer and radio disc jockey would make it an incomplete, forged and most of all a bit of a yawn.
Born in Brooklyn in 1957, Humphries’ musical journey is synonymous with New York City’s dance music history and the evolution from uptempo soul music to house: from being a dancer at David Mancuso’s infamous Loft parties to becoming a mobile DJ and getting the call from Shep Pettibone to become his right hand at
the then new Kiss FM radio station, followed by countless remix offers and a legendary residency at Newark’s Club Zanzibar. Next to that one, is was especially his work as a radio disc jockey for said station during most of the 1980s until 1994 that gave him majestic clout. Breaking new records week in, week out,
putting New Jersey acts like Adeva and Jomanda or countless up-and-coming producers from there on the musical map, while simultaneously playing the hottest imports from Europe, trax from Chicago, dance classics and all things straight from New York’s music factory that never seemed to stop.
Going to his vast and almost complete archive of radio shows from way back when he graced those airwaves, we at Running Back Records have pickedNew Release Information original recordings that symbolize his importance as an industry giant and ambassador of this style of music.
„But one thing I would like to point out is that, as a DJ, the music I play is not my music. I want to make it perfectly clear that it is music that is released, and it’s everyone’s music. I do not take any other credit than being the middle person exposing this music.“
(Tony Humphries in: What Kind of House Party Is This?, Jonathan Fleming, 1996)

(*Previously unreleased)

Telling a tale of house music’s early days or roots without mentioning Tony Humphries as a club DJ, remixer and radio disc jockey would make it an incomplete, forged and most of all a bit of a yawn.
Born in Brooklyn in 1957, Humphries’ musical journey is synonymous with New York City’s dance music history and the evolution from uptempo soul music to house: from being a dancer at David Mancuso’s infamous Loft parties to becoming a mobile DJ and getting the call from Shep Pettibone to become his right hand at
the then new Kiss FM radio station, followed by countless remix offers and a legendary residency at Newark’s Club Zanzibar. Next to that one, is was especially his work as a radio disc jockey for said station during most of the 1980s until 1994 that gave him majestic clout. Breaking new records week in, week out,
putting New Jersey acts like Adeva and Jomanda or countless up-and-coming producers from there on the musical map, while simultaneously playing the hottest imports from Europe, trax from Chicago, dance classics and all things straight from New York’s music factory that never seemed to stop.
Going to his vast and almost complete archive of radio shows from way back when he graced those airwaves, we at Running Back Records have pickedNew Release Information original recordings that symbolize his importance as an industry giant and ambassador of this style of music.
„But one thing I would like to point out is that, as a DJ, the music I play is not my music. I want to make it perfectly clear that it is music that is released, and it’s everyone’s music. I do not take any other credit than being the middle person exposing this music.“
(Tony Humphries in: What Kind of House Party Is This?, Jonathan Fleming, 1996)

This is not a Ben Vida, Booker Stardrum, and Will Epstein record; it’s a Play Time record. That’s a subtle but important distinction, for a couple reasons. One, the sound of Magic Object—a polymetric blend of improv and pulse minimalism for saxophone, drums, and Moog—doesn’t really sound anything like any of their many other ensembles or respective solo projects. And two, it was only while making Magic Object, their debut album, that Play Time realized they were a band at all.

Let’s back up. The roots of the trio date to 2020-21, when Will and then Booker moved to the Hudson Valley, where Ben was already living. The three got into the habit of playing together at Ben’s house, and they soon realized that their hang sessions felt fundamentally different from making music in some falling-down studio in Bushwick. Where those experiences were rushed and cramped, a new sense of time and space now suggested itself. Where once they rat-raced the music, now they relaxed into it.

Early gigs yielded similar revelations. A booking at Tubby’s, the beloved Kingston venue, evolved into a kind of residency. Tubby’s is a small space, fitting around 100 people, with a bar in the front room and a stage in the back. Play Time decided that they didn’t want to play on the stage; they wanted to play in front, among the people in the bar. Rather than hogging the spotlight and overpowering the other voices in the room, they blended with the energy of their surroundings and emerged as a sort of minimalist-jazz-krautrock bar band.

Gradually, they discovered a newfound “elasticity”—Ben’s word—that reshaped the music from inside. “It’s this communal thing,” he says. “It’s vibes. And it’s embedded in the community up here, which feels really vital and nourishing.” They were jamming, but it wasn’t just a free-for-all; they found themselves listening to each other in new ways. “Ben and Booker joke that they’re always playing in different time signatures,” Will says. “We’re all going forward with our own ideas, but we’re open to each others’ as well, and they’re all sort of dancing together.”

“We all have our painterly solo projects,” Will says—where, Booker adds, “we do a lot of studio arranging and thinking and composition that takes shape over a period of time.” Play Time, on the other hand, is all about being in the moment. That spontaneity was key to the process of recording the album. They booked two days in their friend Joey’s studio, a converted wooden barn. “It’s just a live room,” Booker says. “There’s no separation or anything. So we’re all in the space together and it’s got this beautiful, woody sound, and that’s very much the sound of the record.” For two days, they just jammed, for seven or eight hours each day. When it was over, they went through, edited down the portions they liked, and added very judicious overdubs designed to enhance the original recordings without fundamentally altering them, staying true to the spirit of the sessions.

The result is something like a snapshot and a mission statement all rolled into one. “You’re hearing us discover the voice of the band in real time,” Ben says. “We finished those sessions and we were like, ‘Oh, that’s what our band sounds like now.’”

Now, with Magic Object, the rest of us get to find out too.

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Balmat is a label with a cloudy outline. Jointly shepherded by Albert Salinas and Philip Sherburne, two friends living in Cardedeu, Catalonia, and on the Balearic island of Menorca, Balmat grew out of Lapsus Radio, a weekly show born almost ten years ago. Balmat’s mission is simple: to foster new ideas, expand upon personal obsessions, and put enveloping sounds out into the world.

“Balmat” means “empty” or “void” in Catalan. But quite apart from any negative connotations, we prefer to think of it in terms of possibility: a space waiting to be filled.